


The McKay Method

by outsideth3box



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: AU, Gen, M/M, No Atlantis, Stargate Atlantis - Freeform, earthside, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:52:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outsideth3box/pseuds/outsideth3box
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Doc Magnussen had referred to Rodney McKay as the “no-nonsense” type, this was not what John had expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The McKay Method

**Author's Note:**

> Ultimate thanks to my beta Darkhavens, who stayed up late to look this over for me. She is a lovely, wonderful person.

John wandered into the “Mind-Body-Spirit Center” with more than a little trepidation. He glanced at the huge framed image of two glowy palms holding the Earth, and shook his head.

His doctor had referred him for some “Reiki” work for his chronic migraines, but he was pretty skeptical. Energy work, the doc had said, healing for blocked or stuck energy patterns and/or release from anxieties or trauma, deep-seated fears and limiting beliefs. John had squinted at the doctor and just asked, “How much is this shit gonna cost me?” because Doctor Magnussen had never steered him wrong yet.

There was no receptionist, or lobby, really, so he continued to wander, looking at the numbers and names on the doors. Eventually he found a door marked “Rodney McKay - Reiki Energy Healing”. Just as he raised his hand to knock, a man in a suit with his tie askew came barrelling out, red-faced and looking like he was either going to break out screaming or laughing, John couldn’t tell which.

He entered semi-reluctantly, since he had no idea what to expect, but it was just a plain room. Sand colored walls and a light blue ceiling, a massage table in the middle covered in a sheet with a bolster and a small pillow as well. Dim lights. No music or incense. A small round table and two chairs sat in the far corner. A CD player, CD’s and a stack of what looked like business cards sat on top of the table. 

A stocky looking man stood, with his back to the door, guzzling what looked like a Starbucks Double Shot. John cleared his throat and the guy jumped about a foot, up and around at the same time, managing to spill the last couple of swallows down the front of his shirt.

“What the fuu-mmmph!” He jammed his hand into his mouth, then took it out and said, “Hello, do we have an appointment?” The guy, presumably Rodney McKay, wiped his coffee-covered hand on his thigh and held it out toward John, who dutifully shook it.

“Uh, yeah? I was referred by Doctor Magnussen. For my migraines.” 

“Oh, right, right. He sent me an email about it. I didn’t read it. Tl:dr, should have sent a text.” McKay was still holding the empty can, turning his head this way and that as if looking for someplace to put it. When he turned and walked through a door behind the table which John had not noticed, there was the clatter of the can hitting several other cans and then silence for about 30 seconds. 

McKay reappeared in a clean shirt with a wry smile on his face. “Gotta recycle everything around here or the airy-fairy types will jump right down your throat.”

“Airy-fairy types?” John asked with a quizzical expression.

“Oh, you know, the glowy path to macrobiotic Buddhahood can only be found under the angels’ wings.” He twisted his hands in the air, supposedly to represent airy-fairyness.

John tilted his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be a believer, too? To be able to do this sort of thing? Which is what, by the way? How does it work, anyway?”

“Bah, belief!” McKay scowled. “How should I know how it works? It just does. And we might as well get started. The only thing you need to take off is your shoes, for the sake of my table. Bolster or no?”

“Bolster?” John asked.

“This pillow here that looks like a giant Tootsie Roll.”

John chuckled.

McKay said, “What? It makes me hungry!”

“No, that’s okay, I don’t need it.” John hopped (“Gently! Gently!”) up onto the massage table and lay there feeling awkward. First he folded his hands across his stomach, then dropped them down to his sides, squirming restlessly. When Doc Magnussen had referred to Rodney McKay as the “no-nonsense” type, this was not what John had expected.

“Do you want a blanket?” Asked McKay.

“I’m not cold,”John said.

“No,” said McKay. “I don’t suppose you are, what with it being about 34 thousand degrees in here. The blanket is comforting to some people, helps them relax.”

John frowned at the idea that his nervousness was showing. “No, no blanket.”

“Okay then. Oh, wait, how are you with being touched? You look like the twitchy type, so I can do it without touching you, if you prefer.”

“Uh, yeah, that would be great, thanks,” John said, not responding to the ‘twitchy’ comment.

“Do you want music? I have some so-called music that is mostly water noises and birds twittering, which is apparently what most people expect.”

“Got any Johnny Cash?”

McKay stilled. His voice sounded disappointed when he said, “No.” Then he leaned over John’s head to look him upside-down in the eye, and said, ”If you come again, bring some with you and I’ll play it. At least it won’t make me have to pee.”

“Okay, we are ready.” John could hear the sounds of McKay rubbing his palms together briskly for a moment, then taking a deep breath and blowing it out through pursed lips.

John didn’t close his eyes. He wanted to see this Reiki thing in action, wondered if McKay’s hands would really glow like in all the pictures in the hallway. 

The first thing McKay did was hover his hands over John’s face, about eight inches away, and just held them there. Not doing anything that John could see. After a couple of minutes, McKay moved his hands to near-but-not-touching the top of John’s head. As the minutes passed John could feel heat emanating from McKay’s hands, more so than body heat would account for. He was puzzled. But the heat seemed to soak right into him, and he began to relax.

As McKay continued to move around his head, then his shoulders and neck, John could feel a sort of sub-tactile buzzing in his body and a slight vibration that seemed to be the table, since John wasn’t moving. “Is this table stable? I feel it vibrating.”

McKay sighed. “No, the table is fine. It’s just the energy flowing through your body that you feel.”

“You don’t sound pleased,” John ventured.

McKay sighed again. “Look,” he growled. “I’m a physicist, alright? I just do this to pay for my research. I can’t explain it, it just works. And it drives me nuts!”

“So, how did you get into this, then?” John asked.

McKay deflated, but kept up the not-touching. “Well, there might have been a girl? Blonde. With very lovely assets. And I might have laughed at her?”

John smiled hugely.

“Well, how was I to know this stuff really works? Seriously. Just because Einstein said it obviously doesn’t make it true. We all know how limited his thinking was.”

Eventually McKay passed over John’s abdomen and then he really felt the heat and the buzzing. His muscles were relaxing more and more and he felt just a tiny little bit fuzzy-headed.

Mckay moved down his body, legs and feet included, and then returned to the side of the table and used his whole arms to do a large sweeping gesture all the way down, head to toe, several times. Then he made a hand-washing gesture and shook his hands out to his sides and said, “Okay then. When you’re ready you can sit up.”

John was surprised to find that he had closed his eyes at some point. He opened them and tried to sit up, but he felt a little like he had downed a beer really quickly and wobbled a bit. McKay was right there to brace him and said, “Hey there, now. Take your time. Here, let me help you stand and I’ll get you grounded.”

Once John was upright, McKay broke the no-touching rule by placing his palms on John’s shoulders and pressing down firmly. Suddenly John felt like he could feel the solid ground under his feet again and his head cleared and wow, did he ever feel great!

“Wow,” he said. “I feel great!”

McKay just sighed. “Yeah, they all say that. That will be sixty-five dollars, please, cash or card.”

As John paid up, he realized that the awful tension that lived in his neck and shoulders was much less than he was used to. “And the rest is a tip,” he told McKay. “Say, do you ever socialize with clients?”

“Socialize?” McKay asked with a raised brow. “I guess I could. What did you have in mind?”

 

John grinned. “Let’s go for a walk down the street to that taco place I saw.”

“Meat?” asked McKay with a hopeful squeak.

John just winked and said, “I’m here because I have migraines, McKay, I’m not a _vegetarian_ for crying out loud!”

“Meat!” squeaked McKay again, and then he broke the no-touching rule again, bumped John’s shoulder with his and said, “I suppose you should call me Rodney.”

 

Fin


End file.
